Unforgettable
by barefoot and buckwild
Summary: Everywhere he goes, he sees her. It's as if her memory has a map of his mind and follows him around constantly.


AN: So _another_ Townsend/Abby fic. (I think I may have a problem?) But they are just so PERFECT. I've recently finished _United We Spy _AND NOW THEY'RE CANON and I couldn't be happier over that. And then the Rachel/Joe thing too. I love Ally for that :DDD

Any who, this in his point of view, obviously. I got this idea after listening to "Outta my Head" by Craig Campbell. So please leave a review and tell me what you thought.

Disclaimer: I'm obviously not Ally Carter so these awesome characters don't belong to me.

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Unforgettable

He has every window in his house opened, letting the cool October breeze blow in to mask the smell of left over perfume. But of course, it's not going to help at all. It's as if the fruity smell is haunting him because no matter what he does – he can still smell it, even faintly.

He glances down at his phone and regrets it. The first thing he sees is the old messages from _her_ – the ones he's too bloody weak to delete. He can't even bring himself to even delete her number. Not that it would do any good, that number is one he knows too well.

He places his phone face down on the night stand and rubs his face when his hands before letting out a sigh. He intertwines his fingers and lays them in his lap. He glances over at the foot of the bed and sees his favorite shirt, which was _her_ favorite shirt to sleep in. Another reason why her perfume is so strong even when she's not around – that shirt smells strongly of her.

He should get rid of it or at least hide it away, but he can't bring himself to do that.

_Not that it would help._

Nothing he can do will allow him to forget her which is what he wishes for more than anything. To forget the only woman who gets under his skin and drives him completely insane. The same woman who is far more sarcastic than normal; a woman who he hates but who he also loves.

It's confusing like that.

Sometimes he swears that he can see her out of the corner of his eye, arms crossed and a hip cocked, staring at him. Of course when he turns his head, he finds out that nothing's there. All he finds is an empty room.

He can't even sleep at night without her constantly showing up in his dreams. That special smile she has that he thinks she only shares with him.

Every time he closes his eyes – even for a minute, he can clearly see her Emerald green eyes that are flecked with bits of hazel and jade as if she's standing right in front of him. He's disappointed when he opens his eyes and finds that she's not there.

As much as he hates to admit it, he terribly misses her. Although if anyone asked him, he would quickly dismiss the thought and would call the person insane.

Obviously he was lying to himself. Sometimes he wished that he wasn't. He wishes that he didn't love her and that he could live without her. But he can't – his life is not the same without her in it. And it kills him when she leaves.

He's used to though, because they take turns leaving. They yell and scream at one another when things don't go their way and one of them leaves. Then the next week, the other leaves. But they always come back - it's a never ending cycle.

He can't even go out in public without thinking he sees her in a crowd. He can be in a coffee shop and swear that she's the waitress pouring his coffee – of course it always turns out not to be her.

Everywhere he goes, he sees her. It's as if her memory has a map of his mind and follows him around constantly – it's the only explanation he can come up with.

He even hears her laughter in the dead of night when he's staring at the ceiling because he can't sleep.

Everything is slowly driving him crazy.

_Maybe I really am going insane. _

She was never an easy woman to forget and sometimes he thinks that she gets off on driving him insane. And maybe that's why she stays away longer and longer each time she leaves – just to get under his skin.

Even if he's gotten her out of his house, out of his room and especially out of his bed, it doesn't matter – he can't get her out of his head. She's not done, she never will be. Because that's the type of woman she is.

She's loud, blunt and a bit crazy but that what he loves about her. He loves that she's the complete opposite of him. He also loves her bright, vivacious personality because that what makes her, _her. _

She gives him a challenge and there's nothing Edward Townsend loves more than a challenge. He also has a bit of an ego, even if he won't admit to it.

Her long, dark hair, her bright green eyes, and her porcelain skin are seared into his brain. Nothing he does can make him forget what she looks like, what she feels like, what her lips taste like or even what her body feels like pressed against his.

He can even still smell her coconut shampoo. She's even left bottles behind in the bathroom – possibly on purpose.

Everything would be so much better if she wasn't so memorable and if she wasn't such a big part of his life. He hardly remembers a time when he hadn't known her.

They'd been around one another ever since the CIA and MI6 constantly paired them together on missions. Especially ones like Buenos Aires – another reason why he can't forget her.

She makes that _bloody impossible. _

He reaches towards the drawer of his bedside table and hesitates before he pulls it open. Slowly, he reaches inside and pulls out a folded up picture.

He unfolds it and finds himself staring down at the woman he can't forget. Maybe he should get rid of the picture – to make it easier. But he can't do that.

As much as he wants to forget her, a part of him doesn't want to. Because forgetting her means forgetting most of his life. Even if she's so annoying and makes most of his days terrible – she's also the reason for his happiness.

His life would be completely boring without her. Before her, he was basically a robot and he doesn't want to go back to that.

He looks at the photograph and wishes that she would just magically appear in front of him. But of course, that's impossible.

_Damn you, Abigail Cameron for being so bloody unforgettable._


End file.
